


Jacob Frye x Reader: To Woo the One

by Oreana



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Love, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance, wife - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7333498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oreana/pseuds/Oreana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request by Anon of a shyer Jacob trying to woo the woman who will be his wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Woo the One

**Author's Note:**

> {IMPORTANT: I am afraid that no more Jacob Frye/Assassin's Creed works will come from me having been harassed out of the fandom for nearly half a year. I've lost my drive and passion for it entirely, but I appreciate the support and love that has come from some of my readers. <3 Thank you all for the fun times, but because of the death threats and other absurd comments thrown my way via Tumblr, I'd rather forget about this fandom entirely. Do not expect anymore updates of these stories.}
> 
> Was given this request on my Tumblr, blindgeishateahouse by an anon, but once I found out who the anon was, I was able to personalize it a bit better. =P There will be a second chapter called 'The Pursuit'. It is on my to-do list. =) Enjoy.

The library was your only salvation, it seemed. It was quiet and where you got your best ideas for your own writing when it came to reading the written word of current and past authors. You would read any and everything, really—nothing would stop you from taking in books ranging from fact, to fiction, to fantasy.

Hearing the rain coming down heavily just beyond the library walls, you sighed to yourself as you knew getting home was going to be a challenge. You brought your umbrella with you as always. The weather in London was unpredictable at best, and you’d be damned if you let your books get ruined or the papers you scribbled on day in and day out.

“Rotten luck,” you mumbled to yourself, closing the book in your possession as you knew the library would close soon, and it was best to be on your way well before then. Besides, you had dinner to plan for and make, so you found your belongings and urged them into your bag before taking your leave of your safe haven.

It wasn’t that far a walk from where you lived. If anything, you found the walk relaxing on most days….most days….but seemed this day was going to be a bit different.

“ ** _COMING THROUGH!_** ”

The voice was loud and pierced the heavy downfall as well as the sounds of aggressive neighing that could be heard from the horse drawing a carriage. You were quick to look in the direction of the voice and panicked when you saw two carriages coming in your direction in a rather erratic fashion; one was being handled by a Blighter and the other was a man in a trench coat and top hat. Heart beating wildly, you hadn’t a second to think as one of them knocked over a lamppost with the other ramming into the fellow rogue carriage to encourage the collision.

Without thinking, you dropped your umbrella and the papers you had in your arms scattered as you hurried out of the way of the oncoming carriages. You watched in heartbreak as your hard work was torn apart by the harsh beating of the horse’s hooves against the muddy ground. The documents were easily torn piece by piece no thanks to the rain’s gentle touch prior, and while you were thankful your life was still in tact, you spend days on that writing…and now…it was gone…

“No!” you whimpered to yourself, grabbing at the pieces of paper that you could still very much grasp in your hands only to watch as they disintegrated rather quickly when you did so.

You were so distraught that you didn’t care you were getting soaked at this point. Sadness turned to anger and you clenched your fists, looking in the direction of the ones responsible, but they were long gone by this point. Gathering up your umbrella, you used that to shield yourself from the rain (though, with how soaked you were, it was a bit pointless).

“Good riddance to you both!” you hissed to yourself, trying to make sure everything was in order before trying to shake the sorrow of your loss from you. “I swear, inconsiderate! If I ever see either of them again, I will let them have it…!”

It was meaningless to sit there and fume over the incident, so you did your best to make your way home at that moment with your anger to fuel your eagerness to be out of the embrace of the storm.

 

 

You were quick to remove your damp clothes from your body when you arrived back at your lodgings. The warm cotton gown was welcome after being soaked from head to toe for nearly thirty minutes. After enjoying a simple dinner, you settled down for some hot tea in hopes of keeping away any illness that desired to take hold of you after being out in that sort of weather.

The warm drink was soothing and calmed your anger that you still had boiling in your gut from earlier. However, sorrowfulness at all your hard work being gone was still very much there and you found yourself looking over at your writing desk almost disinterestedly.

Palm to your face to try and fight off the weariness that threatened to overtake you, a groan rumbled in your throat. “All that hard work…dammit…” You paused in lamenting your lost story. Mind wandering on what to do, you knew it would be easy to just brush it off to the side and let that be it, but you worked too hard to let some mindless idiots be the end of it all. “I will have to try and make up for it in the coming days if possible.”

After you finished your tea and found your ambition once more, you took your lamp to your bedroom before allowing the fire to die down and settled in for the evening.

 

\--

 

It was hard trying to find the drive to rework a story you had already several pages on, but you wouldn’t be deterred. Day in and day out, you found yourself back into the library’s halls and quiet sitting areas to focus on the plans you had as the story burned eagerly in your heart.

At least these days were uneventful. You took comfort in that thought when going to and from the library after work. It wasn’t until one day in the middle of one week that you found the librarian halting you as soon as you entered through the decorative front doors.

“Excuse me, miss?” the male librarian called out to you, waving you over to his desk.

“Yes?” You found it odd he would require your attention as you did nothing wrong; at least, you didn’t think you did.

“I was asked to give you this letter,” the man answered, handing over a sealed envelope to you that wasn’t signed at all by anybody.

It was weird…you weren’t expecting a letter from anybody, really. You had no admirers and you weren’t seeing anybody, so this was a bit shocking to find. “Are you sure it’s for me?” you asked, finding this strange still.

“The man who dropped it off asked for you by name and description,” the librarian assured you as he fixed his glasses, which were sliding down the slope of his nose. “I’ve seen you in here every day, and while I didn’t know your name, I’d know the description of you easily.”

“A man?” you quoted. Again, you knew very little men that would be interested in chasing you down just to give you a message. “What did he look like?”

The librarian struggled with the idea of describing him, so he merely shrugged with a nervous laugh to accompany it. “I was asked not to say. Perhaps the letter has the answers you seek, (Y/N)?”

While the message wasn’t expected, you showed your appreciation all the same. “Well, I thank you.”

With the letter in your possession, you took to your usual spot and sat down to read it after tearing into the envelope. It was a written letter like any other. The only thing unique about it was that, yet again, you had no name to go by since the first thing you did was look down at who might have signed their name. No name; just ‘your admirer’.

Dear (Y/N),

I am sure you find it odd that you are getting a letter out of the blue as this. Forgive the veil of secrecy, but I am afraid I lack the courage to approach you outright.

Perhaps you’ve seen me, perhaps you’ve not, but I’ve always seen you from the crowds of London whenever I find myself out and about my daily tasks. You take comfort in the library quite frequently, I’ve noticed. To use this letter to ask you why would seem silly if I lack the bullocks to actually confront you, so I’ll refrain. Maybe that could be a story for another day.

I apologize for not telling you in person, but I will write it here and now and say you are quite lovely and stand apart from the other people I’ve seen about the streets. It is a reason I took interest from afar. Besides, after how we met, well…I fret to wonder how you’ll think of me.

Know that it was never my intent for any of that madness to transpire. I would say more, but then you’d know who I was. I’d rather you get to know me better than just some ‘reckless bloke who thinks little of others’.

I pray your studies take you far, and I wish you well.

Yours truly,

Your admirer

“So we’ve met before?” you said to yourself, folding up the paper carefully with a raise of your brow. Obviously, it wasn’t a pleasant meeting, but you hadn’t thought to think back on the carriage incident that happened weeks ago. You encountered people all the time, but you never thought any of them would really find you worthwhile.

The letter was charming, regardless of its randomness it made you smile all the same as you folded it up and put it carefully into your bag for now. Even if the letter was welcomed during such a stressful time, you still had writing to do, and so you found yourself back to work reading and writing as though your life depended on it. Honestly, you were only trying to meet your own personal deadlines and nothing else. It wasn’t like this story had to be done within three months time, but it would be nice if it was all the same.

As you worked, the lovely message continued to play in the back of your mind, causing you to be distracted now and again and almost desire to read it once more to see if you could jog your memory on who could have been the one to write it; but you were determined, and you wouldn’t be swayed from your set course for the evening.

When the clock struck nine, it was then you took up your belongings, put away the books you had been reading, and took to the streets of London once more to be on your way back home. The stale London air gracing your lungs, you looked about the road before you curiously to see if, perhaps, your secret admirer might be somewhere within plain sight.

No such luck. At least, you didn’t recognize any of the citizens that were still loitering the roads that evening.

Finding comfort in your housing once more, you put your bag down off to the side near your writing desk and sighed out your exhaustion from the long day. Time off tomorrow would be nice, but you couldn’t afford to spend a single day slacking. You wanted to meet your personal deadline one way or another, and that would mean going to the library every day.

So the day ended like any other—with you preparing dinner, sipping on a bit of tea to relax and then off to bed to start the day anew.

 

\--

 

The letters started to continue showing up. Each one was different from the last and usually just the writer talking about himself. Still, you were never granted a name, and it was a bit frustrating as time went onwards. You wanted to know the man who was so intent to write to you so.

“Why won’t he say who he is?” you grumbled, flipping the letter backwards and forwards to see if maybe he hid it somewhere just out of sight.

Did he really do something that upset you, and you just didn’t remember? Palm to your cheek to support your head heavy with thought, you twiddled your pen idly in your possession as you thought on what to do. Trying to wait around to see who this man was wouldn’t work. It seemed he knew your schedule well enough to keep out of sight (even on Sundays). Looking over at the desk that the librarian would usually be at from time to time, you thought about perhaps leaving a letter in return for this mystery man.

That was all you could do, right? What harm could it possibly do otherwise?

And so you did. Taking a piece of your paper nearby, you started to write to the mysterious man that was so intent to leave you love letters of desire.

To my secret admirer,

Let it be no secret on my part that I have kept your letters of longing close to me and my heart, but would it be too much to ask the name of my admirer? Besides, I would like to think me deserving of your time if even a mere moment.

I hope this isn’t asking too much. I would just like to see how compatible we really could be if we met face-to-face.

May your day and evening be well,

(Y/N)

You passed the letter to the librarian and instructed he give it to this man that was eager to leave you messages of love in return. Honestly, you still had writing to do, so after you dropped off the letter (as you didn’t want to forget), you went back to your usual spot and sat down to read and write in peace.

 

 

When the day started to come to a close, you packed up your belongings and was about to head out for the evening when the librarian stopped you yet again.

“(Y/N),” he called out, waving you down eagerly to make sure you didn’t leave just yet. He seemed keen on giving you something.

Stopping just at the doors, you looked to him intriguingly. “Yes? What is it, sir?”

It was then the man handed a letter over to you, and for a moment, you thought he was handing you back your letter. “What is this? I need you to give this to that man, remember?”

“No, (Y/N),” insisted the librarian, fixing his glasses yet again. “It was from that young lad. He stopped by and took your letter and gave me this in return after he finished writing it.”

“Wait, he was here?” You couldn’t believe it. He was there and you missed him! The front desk was within range of your sight, but having your focus on your work caused you to miss him, and that was surprising he was this quick and clever. “When was this?” you asked, not bothering to look at the letter yet.

You watched him motion towards the doors not far away. “It was just a few minutes ago actually—!”

You hardly let him finish as you quickly ran out of the library to see if you could find this admirer. The doors flew open under your administrations as you looked about eagerly in the crowd to see if you could locate someone that would give themselves away, but you were met with no such luck. Shaking your head, you released a nasally sigh of frustration.

“Damn!” you swore, feeling someone lightly bump into you as you did so, but you didn’t drop anything of importance that time. That was good. “Forgive me,” you apologized, even if it was this man’s fault all the same.

The man had a hood over his face, making him mostly obscure to you. All you could take notice of was his sideburns, beard, and the smile upon his face while his eyes remained cloaked in shadow. “Forgive me, really,” he said in return, his hand gently upon your shoulder. “I was rubbish at looking where I was going.”

You weren’t one to be rude, so you merely raised your hand reassuringly to the situation. “It’s fine. I promise, sir.”

That seemed to be all he was going to say to you, as the man removed his hand from your shoulder and departed from the scene. You thought nothing of it. The streets could get so busy that people bumped into others all the time. With the stranger gone from the scene, you took to the letter you had been gifted earlier by the librarian to read what it said.

Dear, (Y/N),

I will see you tomorrow then. Don’t worry about trying to find me. I will find you. Hopefully, I will also find the courage to talk to you in the meanwhile.

Forever yours,

Your admirer

Folding up the brief letter, you couldn’t help but feel nervous yourself. You were finally going to see this secret admirer of yours and, judging by what had been written in the past, he was nervous about something he did to you. That alone kept gnawing at you. What was it that he had done to make him so scared?

Either way, you thought it was best to not focus on it too much for now and went home to finish off the day as usual.

 

\--

 

You were anxious. He said not to look for him, but you couldn’t help but keep your head up from the writing you were doing just to be on the look out for any man that may come across your sitting area. Some did, but they ended up not being the one you were waiting for. Time was passing by rather quickly that evening, and you were beginning to wonder if someone had just had his cruel fun with you.

Sighing, your fingers went to your hair as you tried to regain your focus. “Dammit all,” you murmured, tapping your foot on the floor. “I lost a lot of time today just waiting for that man. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“My apologizes for that, (Y/N),” came a familiar voice as the chair across the table scratched against the boards below when it was pulled from its resting place for the man to take a seat in front of you.

It was then you looked up to take him in, and you recognized him from yesterday. He was the man that bumped into you, except, he had his hood down now and you could see his slicked back dark brown hair with hazel eyes. Your mouth made an ‘oh’ formation, straightening up at the look of him.

“I would have been here sooner, but something came up,” said the nameless man, his gloved hands cupped in front of him as he looked to you intently. “I don’t suppose you’ll accept my apologizes?”

He didn’t look familiar beyond that one run in last night. What was it that he claimed he did to you that might upset you? “Of course,” you responded with a bit of a blush, embarrassed that he had heard you say such a thing. “So…before this gets any further, what is your name, sir? You never once told me, and I find that odd since I don’t even recognize you beyond our small bump in yesterday.”

A sideways smirk showed on his face as he looked down at his lap. “It’s Jacob Frye,” he answered once his hazel eyes found your curious gaze. “Before I explain myself further, perhaps I should ask what you think of me so far?”

You lowered your head and stared at him with a raise of your brow. “Well, I can hardly say that letters about you will tell me much compared to what you can tell me personally.”

Jacob’s arms opened upon the tabletop as if to shrug. “I was honest in those letters. I told you how I felt about you and what you needed to know about me, (Y/N).”

“Except your name,” you lightly chastised, forgetting your writing and reading for the time being as this Jacob Frye had your attention now. “What was with the secrecy? You acted like I would be furious with you.”

He tapped his fingers nervously, as he thought of what to say with his teeth raking against his lower lip. The laugh he gave you was a weak one, and it was there he finally answered. “I don’t think it would be pleasant to start this evening off with me admitting that I nearly ran over you once.”

When you looked at him inquiringly, it was then you saw him remove a top hat from his attire (somehow) and put it upon his head. There it was… ** _now_** you recognized him even if his clothes were different from that moment the carriage nearly collided with you and made you lose all your hard work.

“ ** _YOU!_** ” All joyful emotions you had prior for this stranger was now turning to anger for how much he set you back. You didn’t care it was weeks ago; he still cost you.

Jacob flinched and his fingers coiled at your tone. Perhaps now he realized he said the wrong thing. “I knew you’d remember.” His tone was strained as he knew this probably wouldn’t end well for him.

“Of course I would! It was a nightmare all that hard work I lost!” You were trying to keep your voice down given where you were. He was lucky you both weren’t anywhere else or you would have found a way to really let him feel your resentment.

“Can I at least explain myself, (Y/N)?” Jacob asked eagerly, reaching for your hand; his palm caressing the back of your tensed fingers.

You were quick to remove your hand from him as you continued to glare at Jacob disapprovingly. “I cannot say I am the unfair type, Mr. Frye, but this better be damn good!”

He raised his hands to try and calm you before he did as he offered. “I was trying to do a medicine run for the local apothecary. Blighters don’t fancy me much as I am the leader of the Rooks.” Jacob gestured to himself, his eyes remaining locked on yours as if to make sure he wasn’t losing your interest or digging himself a deeper hole. “So, I was desperate to get that medicine where it needed to go with that Blighter right on my arse, and he rammed me to where I nearly lost control; that’s why I was yelling at you to move, as I didn’t want to hurt you or worse!”

You knew there was no arguing that. A life was indeed more precious than some story you had been working on. Huffing out your anger, you placed your hand upon your forehead to steady your desire to just tear into him still. “I suppose to blame you for a poor set of circumstances would be…unfair, Mr. Frye.” All the same, you closed your book and looked to him with daggers still. “However, that story was precious to me, and all because of your recklessness, I lost all of it and had to start over! I do hope you’ll understand my anger in the matter?”

Jacob merely shrugged his brow and shoulders to show that he understood losing hard work could be maddening. “All I can ask for is your forgiveness in the matter,” said the mysterious man, a desperate look in his eyes as he was aware he nearly harmed you that night but didn’t realize that it was in another method of which he did.

Seeing the desperation in his eyes and hearing it heavy in his voice, you puffed out your cheeks to think on what to say. It was then the love letters had come back to haunt you, and you found yourself tearing away from his beseeching (almost puppy dog) look. They were honest words written and he sent them to the library for awhile yet. Regardless of not knowing your admirer, you couldn’t help but find comfort in those letters. They were something to look forward to day in and day out.

Taking to your feet, as the night was growing to a close, you shifted through your papers and collected them into your bag. “I cannot stay mad, Mr. Frye,” you insisted, refusing to look at him as anger was still very much there regardless of how meekly you disguised it. “I know you mean well, and—,” you looked to him finally with a raise of your eyebrow, “—you have my forgiveness on the matter.”

The both of you were graced with the distant, muffled chime of Big Ben, and it prompted Jacob to take to his feet as you moved towards the exit of the library. “Forgive me for being here so late, (Y/N),” said Jacob as he hurried after you to fetch the door to the best of his ability to escort you out like a gentleman would. “Perhaps, the least I could do is escort you home?”

You could tell in his actions he was nervous about offering such a suggestion. He probably knew you were fuming (even if in silence), and maybe that was where his shyness was coming from? Honestly, you weren’t sure. You didn’t know him well beyond his confessions of love to you and how his day was usually going when it came to his cryptic messages.

“I promise, Mr. Frye,” you began, moving away from him slowly, “I can get home just fine on my own. It isn’t that far a walk.”

Jacob rubbed the back of his neck, acting as though he were stressed a bit when it came to your response. “You can call me ‘Jacob’, if you please, (Y/N),” he corrected, his hand sliding from the back of his neck towards the front. “Is it alright if I request your company some other time?”

“Another time, perhaps, Jacob,” you called over your shoulder, heading onwards to your home. You swallowed back the resentment that threatened to take hold of your voice and harden it. You did promise you would be nice. “Besides, you know my schedule, it seems. You are free to stop by anytime you like.”

“I will see you tomorrow then!” came Jacob’s voice eagerly, but that didn’t halt you in your journey to get home for the evening.

Upon arriving home, you found yourself sitting down on the sofa more than anything. Usually you would just put your bag down near your writing desk and focus on dinner, but the realization you were being courted by a man you were a bit cross with made you understand your quiet evenings were going to become anything but such. Yes, it was a petty thing to be mad about, but you worked yourself to the bone to catch up to what you lost, and it really hurt your deadline.

“Just get over it, I suppose,” you whispered to yourself, trying to shake the past from you. Admittedly, you did make up the lost work, so there was no reason to stay angry…right? You did promise Jacob you’d forgive and forget.

It was then your eyes looked to the love letters you had there at your writing desk. You found yourself compelled to venture over to them and shuffle through the stack once more. They were written with sincerity. Jacob was saddened over what he knew he had done and was deeply apologetic about it as well as being genuinely concerned over your bad days that he saw you endured from afar. While the words were sweet as honey and filled your heart with love, you couldn’t say you could throw yourself so willingly at the feet of this man.

“Even if I do forgive you, Jacob Frye…a relationship takes much more than admiration from afar. You really need to step up,” you confessed to yourself, putting the letters away into a nearby drawer and taking your oil lamp to the kitchen to prepare yourself dinner.

 

\--

 

Back to reading and writing you went the following evening. There was no letter waiting for you when you arrive at the library, but you assumed that was because Jacob would show up as he promised he would. You paid the thought little mind, as you just wanted to be focused on your passion, but the passion was halted for a moment when the sight of a red rose slid into your view. Hand stilled, you looked to the item, which usually represented love, and then looked up at the man offering it.

Jacob Frye. Of course.

When you didn’t respond or react to the nice gesture, Jacob urged it a bit closer. “For you, if you’ll take it, (Y/N)?”

You looked to it as if to study the gift before your eyes found his again.

“Afraid I know very little about you, so I can only assume all women love flowers,” said Jacob in his defense.

Putting down your pen, you moved your freed hand over to accept the flower Jacob had offered you. It was a nice gesture. Not many men offered you such kind gifts before. “Thank you, Jacob,” you finally spoke, allowing the man to feel at ease before motioning to the seat not far from you. “Yes, you do know little about me, do you? Yet, you figured out my name.”

“Well, but that was because your boss said your name a few times at your work,” he reminded you as he took the seat you were offering him.

You gave Jacob a funny look as you put the rose down and off to the side carefully. “Exactly how long have you been following me in the shadows and why? It’s a bit…creepy, don’t you think?” The whole idea he had been watching you from the crowd made you a bit uneasy.

Again, Jacob stifled a nervous laugh as he spread his hands open upon the table. “It wasn’t intentional at first, really. I was trailing a few leads for my line of work that happened to be on your side of town, and it was there I kept seeing you, and like clockwork, you do the same thing every day and night.” He smirked, leaning forwards with his fingers intertwined. “I hardly needed to use Big Ben to tell me what time it was. Your comings and goings did that just fine.”

“And you just fell in love with some woman you saw?” you questioned, tilting your head curiously for an answer.

“I honestly just wanted to tell you that I was sorry, (Y/N),” Jacob explained. “I recognized you from that night I nearly hit you with my carriage when I was just outside of your place of work and saw you heading out for the day. Honestly, I am relieved to know you are alright even if I damaged the progress of your story.” He frowned at mentioning that again, it seemed. “But, it didn’t start off as love, no. It was a desire to find the damn courage to actually ask for your forgiveness and see if you were alright after that incident, but the more I resisted the thought, the more I started to grow attached to my new target.”

You were a bit on edge by the use of the word ‘target’ with how he said it for some reason. You weren’t sure why. He looked like every other man, really, so you didn’t take him as intimidating.

Jacob raised his hand as if to steady your nervousness. It must have been clear as day upon your face for him to do such a thing. “For my line of work, I shouldn’t really do that sort of thing, so believe me when I say I found it just as odd when it comes to me.”

This had you curious. “And what is it you do, exactly?”

Jacob stalled and merely gave a simple, yet brief, smile. “I cannot tell you. Maybe when the time is right I will; if I feel I can trust you.”

You overlapped your arms upon your paperwork and leaned in a bit closer towards him. “That so? And what is it you wanted to know about me?” Honestly, if he wanted to remain an enigma, there wasn’t much else you could say or do on the matter. As annoyed at him as you were, you weren’t in the mood to fight with him anymore.

“Everything,” said Jacob honestly, reclining back in his chair with his knuckles on one hand rolling across the woodwork of the tabletop. “I can watch you from afar all I want to, but that doesn’t tell me much when it comes to who you are. You only wrote the one letter in return, so I dare say I know not much.”

“The thought to write back never dawned on me till I desired to see who you were, Jacob,” you said with a small smile appearing quickly upon your lips. “Just ask me questions then.” Here, you moved the writing to the side for now. You figured you’d done enough, and it would be ill of you to continue working with someone desiring your attention. “I’ll answer to the best of my ability.”

And so he did. All throughout the evening he asked pretty much any and everything, though the main thing he had asked was indeed what drew you to the library and what it was you enjoyed writing about. You explained what you could until the sound of Big Ben captured both your attention and it was there you knew the evening had to come to a close.

“It is getting late again, Jacob,” you reminded him, even if he already knew and was quickly from his own chair trying to aid you in taking to your feet, but you gently declined the offer as you saw no reason. “I should be heading back home.”

“Would you allow me to escort you this time?” Jacob asked, taking to the front doors of the library to open them for you and accompany you outside regardless.

The thought was kind, but you still didn’t know much about him, and you weren’t going to allow him into the privacy of your home just yet or even know where it was (if he didn’t know already). “Afraid not tonight, Jacob,” you answered, twiddling the rose he had given you earlier in your hand to still show you were appreciative of everything he had done. “But I thank you for the evening.”

Jacob managed a smile and nodded to your words. “It was my pleasure, (Y/N).” He outstretched his hand for the rose you were fondling with, and when you gave it back to him as he was asking for it mutely so, the mysterious man snapped a majority of the stem off before moving it to your hair to allow it to rest just above your right ear. Jacob smiled at the sight. “It makes you more beautiful, if that is possible, (Y/N).”

You couldn’t deny a blush at his words, but all the same it was there you took your leave with a wave to him. “Thank you again, Jacob. I am sure I’ll see you later, yes?”

“You might,” Jacob responded. It was an honest answer, judging from his stance and the strength in his reply. “I do have some things to do tomorrow, so if I don’t get through them in time, you may find me absent. However, if I finish them in time, I will come to you.” Here he removed his top hat and pressed it to his chest to bow before you then turned on his heels to be on his way in the opposite direction.

You still weren’t sure what to think of him. He was an interesting and sweet man from what you could gather, but the pieces weren’t exactly falling into place for you yet. Would they ever? You couldn’t say, so you took such thoughts with you home for the time being and concluded your day.

 

\--

 

The days continued like any other. Jacob would indeed sometimes be there and others he would be missing. What you started to find odd about the absent days was that you missed him constantly poking you for your attention and trying to ask to read what it was you were writing. You never liked the idea of sharing your work as you feared it wasn’t good enough, but Jacob never was the one to judge and that made you feel comfortable with his opinion.

One of the days was a bit unfair to you as you were too sick to even move yourself from your bed. A horrible fever accompanied by a strong chill made sure that you were even unable to tend to yourself alone in your house. The doctor found that worrisome that you would be alone through most of this, but you assured him that you were fine. Honestly, what else could be done?

The days of the illness were cruel and, not only set you back on writing, but made it impossible for you to eat properly. Your body became feeble as the week passed, and you almost worried you’d die from whatever had a hold on you until you felt its grasp on you loosen. While you were hardly well enough to go back to work on the eighth day, you did so regardless and even did your best to drag your weary body to the library shortly after.

The walk there was a lot longer than you remembered. Your body felt heavy as iron and the desire to just go home and rest was almost a loud, eager voice beating there in the back of your mind, but you ignored it all and walked into your sanctuary.

As you made your way towards your usual writing area, you found Jacob waiting for you almost eagerly. It was odd he’d be there this early, but you thought not to question it as you were gone for a whole week. It was a bit unlike you.

“(Y/N)?” Jacob questioned, getting to his feet and hurrying over towards you to hold onto you for support. Perhaps he could tell how weary you looked, and honestly, feeling someone there was enough to make you nearly drop your belongings and just fall asleep on his chest, but you resisted as he guided you to the table. “Are you alright? You look pale…”

Did you? You hadn’t cared to notice, or perhaps you didn’t want to notice. “I was sick for a week, Jacob,” you responded, oddly not finding reprieve in just being taken to your usual seat. Your body was now crying out for you to go back home after a long day at work, and it caused you to overlap your arms upon the table to rest your forehead upon them in attempt to sooth your body.

“Apparently, you still are,” responded Jacob, his voice heavy with concern. His hand upon your back, you felt him place the other on your own to hold it tightly. “Come on then. You should be at home. You’re in no condition to write or read anything if you can barely keep your head up.”

You laughed bitterly as he aided you in standing once more. “You don’t know where my home is, Jacob,” you reminded him weakly, eyes almost refusing to open as you were so tired…you just didn’t realize how much so until you were free from work.

“Then tell me, and I can take you there,” insisted the mysterious man as he was gathering up your belongings and carrying them for you.

His voice was vibrating in your ear, which rested there against his chest. It was like a welcomed lullaby that nearly put you to sleep. You were slipping in and out of the desire to just fall asleep on your feet when he shook you gently to try and get you to answer him. Sighing softly, it was there you responded even if it sounded like a slurred mess given how exhausted you were.

Leaning on him for support, you let Jacob lead the way as you were far too out of it to insist otherwise. Even if it wasn’t a far walk, you were relieved he grabbed a carriage and got you home in one piece safely.

 

 

After Jacob had helped you in taking the medicine the apothecary had given you, he let you rest off the exhaustion, which had overtaken your body. The chill wasn’t ever present that day, so you were glad of that, or perhaps you were too tired to notice? You weren’t sure. Either way, the feel of Jacob’s hand upon your shoulder roused you from your sleep for a moment.

He was sitting there at your bedside, and honestly, you were too tired to care about that fact right now. It was nice that he cared for you so much, but you still wished it could have waited for him to be invited into your home.

“You should eat something, (Y/N),” Jacob whispered, so as not to agitate you with you so ill. “That’s part of the reason you are rubbish at even standing. You weren’t eating well.”

You stifled a dismal laugh. “I know, but I was sick and alone, Jacob. That was why I was ‘rubbish’ at eating anything.”

“Then let me help you,” said Jacob quickly, getting to his feet and departing from your bedside to go find something in your kitchen. “I warn you though; I cannot cook worth anything, so you’ll need to eat simple things unless you desire to be sicker.”

Again, you tried not to laugh as you shrugged your shoulders not even looking in his direction. “Whatever you think works,” you answered back as you were too drained to care to focus on food really.

Jacob did find the bread you had as well as a few vegetable and fruit items too that he merely cut up and got to you to eat. Honestly, it was a bit of a pain to even sit upright, but you were reminded the main reason you were so tired was because you lacked any substance in your body, so you welcomed the idea of food for a bit.

“I am sorry that me coming to your home had to be such as this,” apologized Jacob, as he knew you were intent to keep him away for your own personal reasons.

You shook your head, picking away at the bread you had been offered. “It is fine, Jacob. Besides, I appreciate you getting me home.” Your voice still conveyed how weak you were and it seemed to worry Jacob as he furrowed his brow.

“You really shouldn’t even go to work tomorrow,” he reminded you, leaning forwards on his legs with his hands together before him. “You are still recovering from this, and it would only make you further ill to go out in the unpredictable weather that is London.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Jacob, but I need to make money,” you felt need to point out.

Jacob seemed offended by that answer, if not curious. “Is it really worth your life, (Y/N)? No job is worth dying over.”

“Of course not,” you said quickly, putting the soon empty plate down and off to the side. “I am sure all I need to do is just rest up for the evening, and I’ll be fine.” Honestly, you were lying. You felt it would take more than that, but you had to get back to work one way or another.

Jacob laughed sarcastically to himself, reclining back in his chair with a roll of his eyes. It was obvious he knew better. “Come on now, (Y/N),” Jacob pleaded, his hands to his face as if to remove any signs of annoyance in the matter. “You need to stay home tomorrow. At least **_ONE_** day. Can’t you do that?”

When you opened your mouth to counter with something snarky in return, he interrupted you.

“I will pay you for the day you miss. How does that sound?” Jacob asked, opening his hands as if to shrug at you.

“Jacob, I can’t—.”

“Money is nothing in comparison to your health and well being, (Y/N).” His words were fast in his attempts to cut you off again. Jacob’s face was heavy with distress as he looked to you intently still. “I am worried about you, (Y/N). Please, don’t make me fret further in this matter by having you refuse my offer.”

Closing your mouth, which was agape at his words, you sighed heavily at his valiant attempts to make sure you would heal properly. “Alright, alright,” you said, caving in under his pleading stare. “I will stay here and accept your offer.”

Jacob smiled a crooked smile and his body faltered under the sweet embrace of relief, it seemed. “Next question,” he began seriously. “Will it be alright for me to stay here and watch over you then? I know you still think of me as a bloody annoyance, no doubt, but I am worried for you.”

As much as you’d rather have him not see you like this, you knew there was no escaping it. In the end, you could hardly feed yourself, and you needed him. “It is fine, Jacob, and I thank you.”

Jacob grabbed the empty plate nearby and took it with him back to the kitchen. “Alright then,” he called over his shoulder since your kitchen wasn’t that far from where you slept. “For every day you miss out on work, I’ll just pay you for it. That way, you can focus on just getting better.”

“I said just one day, Jacob,” you reminded him with a weak smirk upon your sickly lips.

“Aah, but we don’t know how long this will keep in you,” said Jacob as he ventured back into the bedroom to take to the chair that he had pleasure sitting in beside you.

“What do you do anyways that allows you money to pay me without a second thought?” you asked curiously. Not many people in London had such money, but Jacob was talking about it like it was nothing to him.

“I have an inheritance for one, (Y/N),” said Jacob slowly, his palms rubbing together between his legs as if he debated on telling you the truth of something. “My father died when I was young, and most of his money got passed to my sister and me.” He stalled, looking off to the side with a raise of his brow. “I am also an Assassin and find myself getting my money either off of my targets or paid by the Brotherhood Council themselves.”

You felt your heart squeeze with worry in your chest. Did you just invite a killer into your home? “You kill people for a living…?”

Jacob shook his head in a way to insist he knew you wouldn’t quite understand him when he said that. “Well, that’s a right black and white way to look at it, love.” His eyes found yours again, and he shook his head while sucking in his lower lip. “I do it for the good of London. I kill Templars and Blighters. That is it.”

“I guess now I can understand why the Blighters don’t quite care for you then,” you said lightheartedly.

A small breath of a laugh escaped his lips as he wrinkled his brow teasingly at your words. “Yes, you kill a few of their numbers and they don’t seem to like that very much.”

“So a liberator of London, are you?” you questioned further only to see him nod. “That’s quite admirable of you.” Your fingers fidgeted with the covers in front of you before you turned to him yet again. “But shouldn’t you be doing your job then and not wasting your time with me?”

“I would hardly call this ‘wasting my time’,” Jacob said softly, reaching boldly for your hand to hold it just tight enough to let you know that he meant his words. “I enjoy spending time with you. I just wish you’d open up to me more.”

His eyes were pleading again, and you found yourself unable to tear away from them. Because of his crippling hold on you, you almost didn’t realize he was moving closer to you as if to ask mutely if it were okay to kiss you finally. Almost, you allowed it, but your fingers gently touched his beard to deter the thought. “I am sick…remember?”

Jacob smiled brightly, his eyes lidded as he looked to you with love still. “So you are,” he whispered, his mouth so close to yours you could taste of his breath. It was there he moved his lips to your warm cheek to kiss you there. “But you didn’t say ‘no’, really.”

His words were a teasing sort of taunt, as if he had a bit of victory in that. All the same, you rolled your eyes at him. “I didn’t, no, but that means nothing as of right now, Jacob Frye,” you reminded him when you looked him dead center into his hazel eyes.

“I won’t be afraid to say it, (Y/N).” Jacob grabbed your hands (yet again) at that moment, holding them tightly as if to beg for strength in the matter. “I do love you, and I wish you’d let me know what it is I should do to have you be mine.”

You blinked in flustered confusion. “Where is this coming from?”

“The fear that I might lose you to someone else,” answered Jacob, still showing his worry in the matter.

He was persistent, and perhaps you should admire that. “I do appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Jacob, but it is going to take more than sweet love letters and casual meet ups for me to say something.” Seeing the disappointed look on his face, you reached to his cheek to caress reassurance upon his skin all the same. “Love takes time. Just let it build a bit more for me. I am not saying it is impossible for me to return your sentiments, but I do need time.”

“Then I will wait for you,” Jacob responded without hesitation. He seemed nervous. His left leg was moving up and down eagerly before he spoke again. “I want to have moments like this more often. I want to be able to take care of you when you’re at your weakest. I want to be able to make food for you, regardless of how rubbish I am at cooking things,” he said teasingly, waving off the kitchen in his confession. “I want to be able to just wake up beside you and show you how much you mean to me.” His voice softened as did his face—perhaps he was debating on whether he should continue in that moment. “I want you to share the same love to the point I can ask you to be my wife.”

You shushed him then. Moving one of your hands to his lips to stop him from going onwards, you stilled his affirmation. The words were beautiful and heartwarming, but now was perhaps not the best for them. “Jacob, I am not saying it isn’t possible, but once again…love takes time.” You smiled all the same, bringing his gloved hands to your warm cheeks to show you appreciated it all the same. “I have no doubt, given your diligence that I will fall for you. For now…can we just enjoy the quiet evening?”

“If it is an evening with you, (Y/N), I will gladly,” Jacob answered with an honest smile spreading across his lips.


	2. The Pursuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob continues to try and pursue the reader—doing so with the reader having fallen ill.

You took Jacob at his offer—honestly, you were hoping for just one day to be all it took for you to get back on your feet, but it felt as though the sickness only worsened yet again. It was becoming a nightmare to keep anything down as constant vomiting amongst other unpleasant trips to your bathroom kept you occupied through the hours.

It was embarrassing…a man who had confessed his feelings for you having to see you in such a state. You thought for sure he would just call a doctor one day and leave you to heal alone, but Jacob was persistent and refused to leave your side.

“Hey,” you heard Jacob calling to you from the darkness of your mind. “(Y/N), wake up.”

Opening your eyes, you found yourself out cold on the bathroom floor. You couldn’t help it, as the wooden floor felt most welcoming out of any place in the house. Eyes lidded with exhaustion, you turned to greet the Assassin with a muffled moan. “Jacob…?” you questioned, as you were lacking an idea as to how you got to where you were and for how long you might have been out.

He looked panicked about something as he quickly urged you into his arms. “Come on now, love,” Jacob began as he brought a clean cloth to your mouth to do away with something that was upon it (you dared not think about it, really) and then worked on moving you to his arms at least. “Let’s get you back to bed,” he insisted with a grunt at your weight moving into his embrace.

You felt delusional. Hand weakly upon your head, you shook it ever so slightly. “What happened…? I don’t remember going in there…”

The bed was soon upon you as Jacob situated your sickly body underneath the bedcovers with a simple wrinkle of his brow in thought. “Not sure, really,” he answered, his breath labored for some reason or another. “I just got back from the market when I saw the bed empty.” Jacob removed his gloves, putting them down and off to the side for the time being before placing his palm upon your forehead.  His hazel eyes searched your face for an answer of some sort with concern before moving his hand to your cheek. “You are cold to the touch, (Y/N).” Jacob’s hand retreated and a desperate sigh escaped his lips. “I need to fetch a doctor.”

“I am sure it is nothing, Jacob,” you lied in hopes to ease his worries. “In time it will—.”

“—Bloody hell, love; you are mad!” Jacob interrupted quickly with a minor shake of his head at your behavior about it all. “You are losing bodily fluids of all kinds all over this place, and you expect me to believe ‘it’ll pass’?” He jerked his head back and narrowed his eyes disapprovingly at you.

“I want to be optimistic,” you said in a meek voice, struggling to stay awake.

“I would like to be logical for a change, (Y/N),” Jacob responded, moving his hand to his mouth to think of what to do. With that same hand, he pointed at you eagerly. “Give me just a moment to send word to a doctor.” Here, he moved the covers a bit closer to just under your chin. “I won’t be gone long. I promise.”

All you could think to do was nod as you lacked the energy to do much else. Your throat was dry and felt like sandpaper whenever you swallowed. At that moment, all you could consider doing was to close your eyes to wait for Jacob to return as he promised.

It felt as though you weren’t asleep for long enough when you felt Jacob’s hand tapping your cheek gently to wake you. “Come back to me now,” he urged quietly, his form slowly coming into focus as you felt his thumbs caress your cheeks.

As you shifted your palm slightly towards his touch, Jacob moved his closest hand to yours to hold it in support. You never realized how cold you were till you actually felt his warm touch upon you. “Is the doctor here?” you asked almost in desperation. You wanted answers as to why you had been so ill lately.

“Got the lads on it as we speak,” he answered, moving his fingers casually through your hair with a worried frown. “God dammit, I wish I knew what to do…” Jacob looked helpless in this situation, and he practically was. Unless he had some medical knowledge he wasn’t telling you, you knew this probably wouldn’t end well without the aid of a doctor. He took your hand and held it to his chest. “Can I get you anything?”

Eyes lidded, you looked about the room for an idea of what to ask for. “Something to drink…anything to drink,” you pleaded, watching as Jacob took no time hurrying to the kitchen to do as you asked after putting your hand back beside you.

Jacob returned with water in his hands. Supporting the back of your head, he urged you to sit upright as he brought the glass closer to your lips. “I just hope I am not doing more harm than good with this,” he practically whispered, tilting the glass back slowly to allow you the water.

The taste of cold water was honestly refreshing. As chilly as you felt, you ignored it gladly when it came to the sensation of the water gracing your throat. When a bit of it slipped the corners of your mouth, Jacob pulled the glass away and did his best to wipe it away with his fingertips. Breathing steadily, you reveled in the moment.

“How do you feel?” Jacob asked curiously, putting the glass on the nearby nightstand.

A smile, as weary as it was in design, appeared upon your face. “B-Better,” you stammered with a nod. “The water makes me feel not as awful.” Just as you said such a thing, your body threatened to act out against it, but you did your best to keep the water down with a violent tremble of your body.

Seeing you fighting with yourself, Jacob slowly lowered you back down to the bed before moving to grab a wastebasket for you in case you did vomit again. As you fought with the idea, the Assassin tried to calm you. “It’s alright, (Y/N)…just relax,” he instructed, hoping you wouldn’t feel the urge to get nauseous again.

Fingers curling tightly upon the bedcovers, you closed your eyes to will the illness into place best you could. When you figured you were winning, you took a steady breath and looked to the Assassin with a lopsided frown. “I am sorry about this, Jacob,” you said feebly. “I have vomited so much as of late, I am surprised you’re not sick of me.” Having to think about it made you cringe. “I am sorry you have to see this…”

“Well, I have had other bodily fluids spilt upon me, and this isn’t the worst of it,” he said lightheartedly. Jacob’s gentle laugh and sideways smile faltered into a worried frown once more. “I just wish I knew what was wrong. I didn’t expect it to get this bad.”

“Nor I,” you admitted, closing your eyes slowly to try and focus on rest.

Even contemplating sleep was enough to make Jacob shake you gently. Seemed he was scared to see you close your eyes with the state you were in. “Stay awake for me, (Y/N),” he said. “The doctor should be here soon.”

“Shouldn’t I rest? Isn’t that usually doctor’s orders?” you asked with a small laugh tickling your throat.

“Probably,” began Jacob with a shrug of his brow, “but I am no doctor, love, and I would rather he tell us what you need to do.” Again, a somber frown brought devastation upon his expression. “Besides, the last thing I want is for you to close your eyes and never reopen them…”

The doctor did soon arrive and did everything he could to try and unearth the problem with you. “So you say she’s been having a few bouts in the lavatory?” the doctor asked curiously.

“If she can get there as of late,” Jacob clarified with a slight gesture towards you. “She’s gotten so weak lately she can hardly move from the bloomin’ bed. Been changing the sheets a fair deal because of it.”

The doctor went for his bag and prepared a syringe with some sort of liquid. “She’s dehydrated for one from this severe loss of body fluids.” Grabbing the arm nearest him, he went for the bend in it to inject the needle. “Not saying you should drown her with liquids but try to get her drinking a good bit of water if possible.”

Feeling the pinch in your skin, you closed your eyes tightly and released a dissatisfied whine. You would have asked your questions, but even forming words felt like a challenge.

“How frequently?” Jacob asked, crossing his arms upon his chest.

“Every hour at least—depends on how often she is getting ill through the day.” With the injection finished, he slowly removed the needle and cleaned the tip of it. “The saline might do the trick here.”

“So what exactly does she **_have_**?” Jacob asked in desperation on your part. He moved closely to the doctor to show he was eager to have some form of knowledge on your wellbeing.

The doctor almost hesitated in saying, and you yourself couldn’t help but swallow harshly in anticipation for an answer. “Might be cholera,” he answered. “If she is vomiting, not able to control her bowels, and white as a ghost—,” the doctor paused, grabbing at his nearby hand cloth to wash his hands after he removed his gloves. “—easily could be cholera.”

Hearing such a thing made you want to panic. Cholera claimed so many within England and elsewhere in the world and you, as well as Jacob, couldn’t help but worry that you would be next. “So…I am going to die…?”

Having you ask such a thing, Jacob did his best to still your worry as he took your hand and squeezed it with reassurance that he was there for you.

“Not necessarily,” said the physician as he checked his pocket watch to be aware of the time. “Tell me, Mr. Frye, do you plan on taking her to a nearby hospital?” the man inquired, closing the watch and stuffing it back within the lining of his coat.

The thought had apparently crossed his mind, but, upon your eyes looking to him, you saw Jacob was fighting with the idea for some reason. “I would, but I would prefer to watch her here.”

You gave a confused glance to the Assassin but had not the strength to ask for a reason.

The doctor shrugged his hands upon his thighs at Jacob’s to the point response. “Well, I can try and put a saline drip in here, if you like? You need to remember to change it on my behalf, as I cannot afford to come out here daily unless it becomes an emergency.”

“Just show me how, and I will do it,” said Jacob, rising to the occasion quickly. “How long does she have till it could be out of her body?”

“That depends on her and her body, really. Can range from a few days to even months,” answered the doctor as he took to his feet. “I’ll return in a little while. I need to fetch what I need to make the saline drip for you. I didn’t bring it with me, but what I injected her with earlier should help for now.” Pointing to Jacob, he added, “Make sure she drinks water. She needs liquids right now.” When Jacob offered to help him out of the house, the doctor raised his hand slightly. “I can show myself out, Mr. Frye. Thank you.”

“Of course,” replied Jacob, allowing the doctor to leave before he went to fetch another glass of water for you to ingest.

Upon his return, you tried to move your lips towards the rim of the glass once more. Again, the taste of something so cold was welcoming, and you downed the drink easily without hesitation. Aiding you to rest your head back down upon the pillow, he put the emptied glass off to the side, allowing you to whisper your thanks to him. It was there you studied him closely, as Jacob took to the vacant seat that the doctor previously sat in. “Why not…take me to the hospital…?”

Jacob shrugged his shoulders, leaning in closer to you to try and fix the covers a bit upon your body, which was shaken with the chill. “The lot around here aren’t exactly the most cleanest of places, (Y/N). Also, you would be bedridden next to another patient, and who knows what they might have that you could get in your state.” His fingertips found their way to your skin to check your temperature. “I trust you healing better here.” The chair scratched against the floorboards as he removed himself from where he sat for a moment. “Excuse me. I need to get more blankets.”

“I only…” you paused and swallowed again to rejuvenate your dry throat. “…I only have one extra one…”

Finding the one that you were mentioning, Jacob returned with it and sprawled it across the bedcovers. “I’ll have to buy more and wood for your fire too,” he commented, looking over his shoulder at the fireplace not far away in the same room. “Who knows how long you’ll be this cold.”

You were miserable. Closing your eyes tightly, you shook your head. “God, I just want it to end…”

Jacob shushed you gently, his hand caressing your forehead to try and ease the thought from your mind. “It’ll be okay, love. Just hang in there.”

Looking him over, you tried to smile at the situation. “Shouldn’t you be liberating London?” you questioned jokingly, though also curious as to why he had not gone to do so. “I am sure…stabbing men in the back is more pleasant than cleaning up my vomit and shit…”

“I stab them in the throats or head if the chest is not accessible, (Y/N),” Jacob clarified, equally being teasing in nature. “End a lad better that way. As for cleaning up after you, I told you—it is fine.” Here, he reached for your hand and held it once more. In a weak response, you tried to coil your fingers about his touch. “I told you, from the moment we talked, that I wanted to be there for you,” Jacob explained, his thumb rubbing your fingers tenderly. His eyes avoided yours for a moment before he found the courage to look upon you once more. “I love you, (Y/N).”

You opened your mouth to say something in response, but you stalled. Apparently, you waited so long to say something that Jacob calmed your desire to speak.

“You don’t have to say it back, (Y/N). I understand why you keep your words to yourself.”

Honestly, you had given him such a hard time since the first time you met. He had nearly run you over by accident and then sent his confession to you in letters till exposing himself to you physically after he feared coming to you. You looked away, ashamed at that thought. You remember clearly yelling at him for costing you so much work when it came to your story, and like a loyal puppy, Jacob remained nearby—almost unshakable in his desires to be beside you. Now, you were throwing up and losing control over your own bodily functions in your house, and he was intent to keep you tended to. If it wasn’t for him…honestly, you would be dead on the floor.

Closing your eyes tightly, you lacked the fluids to even really cry as intended as you turned to look at him once more with a somber frown. “What is it that you see in someone like me, Jacob Frye?” Your words were quiet no thanks to your sickness, but honestly, you had to know.

Jacob’s chest tensed slightly as he slowly inhaled and then exhaled. “Things I find important. Do you really want me to name them all?” he asked, wrinkling his brow at the thought.

“You only knew me so long from afar,” you pointed out. “What could you possibly ascertain about me from that distance…?”

“Well, you loved to read and write,” he answered with a chuckle. “You are also kind to people you meet.” Jacob idly scratched an itch within his beard as he thought of what else to add. “You are patient and very, very forgiving.”

You knew what he was referencing and you stifled your laugh, closing your eyes at the thought before reopening them.

Jacob smiled at your coy behavior. “And if you were curious of how long I had been watching you, it had been nearly a month, really.”

Your brow rose at his confession. “A month? Why a month? You said you were on duty before, right?” Words froze in your throat as you felt the urge to be sick again, but you fought with the thought to the best of your ability. The last thing you wanted to do was to get sick all over Jacob during such a touching moment.

Still, the Assassin was prepared incase you did need to be sick. His hand went right for the wastebasket nearby for the occasion. When he noticed you calming, he granted you an answer. “A Templar target of mine was in your area. He was constantly about the outskirts of your factory, and I noticed you leaving one day.” He gestured about your face. “I recognized your outfit from the evening I about hit you. I almost did go down to tell you I was sorry, but the rush in your step saw to it that I didn’t get the chance…same for my own rubbish bottle.”

“I am sorry I gave you such a hard time,” you said, voice strained as you were still fighting with the sickness.

“Shhh,” he instructed once more, his hand to your forehead. “Right now, we need to focus on making sure you get to feeling better. Won’t have the strength to yell at me none if you don’t look to that first.”

 

 

The doctor did instruct Jacob on the use of the saline drip when it was brought in hours later to be rigged to your body. Having a needle constantly in your body was unpleasant, but given the fact that you had no energy to fight about the thought left you willing to allow it. Jacob tried to feed you something simple to help give you some energy back, but every time you tried to take in food, it seemed your body wanted to quickly reject it.

As the nights were so horribly cold about London, you found yourself quivering in misery that evening when trying to get warm. It was so hard to find comfort to even consider sleep that you began to whimper and whine in dismay.

Jacob did his best to get the fire going at least while you remained in bed. “It’ll be alright,” he whispered to you, rubbing the blankets against your body in a tender manner. “I am right here.”

“It is…so damn…cold…!” you stuttered imperceptibly, lips trembling at the icy grip that was upon you.

Thinking on what to do, Jacob sucked in his lower lip as he came to a solution and began to remove his clothing eagerly. You thought for a moment he was going to give them to you to add as extra blankets, but he was tossing them off to the side as a means to just get naked.

Your cheeks were the main thing to warm at the mere thought of him becoming naked beside you. “Wh-What are you doing?”

“I am not going to try anything—I swear,” he assured you, moving the covers out of the way so he could make his way under them with you. As Jacob moved closer towards you, he urged your body against his in his valiant attempt to warm you. “I would just keep my clothes on, but you don’t need to be worse off with the dirt and grime that is on those.”

You reacted without a second thought on the matter as you were desperate to fight the chill in the air. Arm moving over his side tiredly, you buried your nose against his chest, which smelt of the stale air of London accompanied by his own sweat, to take in the body heat you could easily feel just radiating off of him. “Thank you,” you whimpered, feeling a bit warmer already with Jacob resting there beside you.

Jacob shushed you caringly as he buried his lips into your hair to kiss you there. “Try to sleep, (Y/N),” he instructed, rubbing your back to aid in the process of warming you. “I will be right here should you need anything.”

You could hardly argue with the idea as Jacob’s body heat was welcoming. The sound of him doing something such as breathing and even swallowing were rhythmic in design and lulled you to sleep easily in the coming hours of the night.

 

\--

 

Only a few times during the night did you have to move during the fits of illness, but having it slowly going down to just four times instead of the many you were used to, you found relief in that thought. Seems peaceful sleep took easy hold upon you…so much so that Jacob worried you died as you heard panic in his voice when he said your name and eagerly shook you awake.

“(Y/N)…! (Y/N)! Wake up…!”

Batting your eyes open slowly, you found your sight affixed upon his. Jacob’s brow was wrinkled with concern as he watched you closely to see if you were indeed alright. Your movements were sluggish, but all the same, they were there. His thigh had somehow made it upon your own, and your muscles tensed every so slightly in an attempts to rejuvenate your body and get it to move against his as your hand, which was behind his back still, brushed his shoulder blade in a means to shift back over his side and bring your arm and hand between you two.

“Thank God,” he murmured between you two, sighing out his relief. “I was shaking you for awhile yet, and you didn’t move. I thought you had…” Jacob rid the thought from his mind. “How are you feeling?” When he felt your leg move more against his, the Assassin responded and removed his own to grant you more freedom.

A brief smile came upon your lips, as you nodded slowly. “I am fine for the most part, Jacob,” you answered honestly, as you had yet to feel your stomach unsettled. “Just a bit tired still…”

“Doesn’t surprise me, really,” he responded quietly, moving any stray hairs from your face. “You were in need to be moved now and again to the lavatory. I think you even fell asleep again on the floor in there at one point as moving you back to bed was like carrying a sack of potatoes,” Jacob lightly joked.

You chuckled softly in response. “Feels like all I do is sleep.”

“Your body is just trying to heal itself, (Y/N).” Jacob moved slightly to check on the saline drip not far away to make sure the bag was still full and everything was going smoothly. “How do you feel about food at this hour?”

You still weren’t used to Jacob being practically naked there beside you, and you derailed in thought as your eyes were too busy taking that thought and the image of him in. “Wh-What do we have?” you asked, not sure if you could stomach certain things so early in the morning.

“Bread and rice might be ideal for now,” answered Jacob as he moved himself from the covers to try and tuck you in once more. “Doctor explained to me that is the best thing for you diet wise for now. It should help against the constant diarrhea problems anyways.”

Having him talk about that made you blush, but you tried to shrug it off with a small titter of a laugh. “How romantic…talking about my bathroom habits…”

Jacob knew you were joking as he gazed at you out of the corner of his eye from where he was standing beside the bed. “I believe I cleaned up a majority of that problem, love. You should be past embarrassed by this point.” His hand found yours, and Jacob squeezed it tenderly. “Besides, I am sure we will look back at this and laugh.”

Honestly, you could only hope. You merely nodded as Jacob put on his white undershirt and pants at least before he took his leave of the bedroom and went to the kitchen to prepare the food he had promised. Upon him doing so, you turned to your back to gaze up at the ceiling of your home to think about things a bit clearer.

You constantly told Jacob that love had to grow when the two of you started talking a bit more frequently. Honestly, you were still cross with him about ruining your story those many months ago that you wanted any excuse possible to keep him at arm’s length. When you got sick, he helped you, but when you were practically on your deathbed, Jacob really dropped everything to try and focus on you. Having to think about such a thing made you swallow harshly and your fingers curled in regret. You had said your apologies, and he accepted them, but you felt that wasn’t truly enough for someone who was being so loyal to you.

When Jacob reappeared moments later with the bread and rice, he aided you in sitting upright, so you could at least try and eat though your arms still felt as though bricks were tied to them. “Maybe this might help some,” he mostly whispered to himself, but it was loud enough for you to hear.

“Jacob?” you began, taking to the rice first as he passed it over.

“Mm? What is it?”

After taking a bite of the rice, you hesitated for a moment in speaking. “I want to say…I love you…” The words were honest even if horribly weak, but Jacob was looking upon you as if whether to take them seriously or not. “I mean it,” you insisted, wanting to cry but you figured that wouldn’t be wise as you needed every ounce of fluids you could manage. “It feels like you hardly know me yet you risk a lot for me…I don’t know many men who would do that unless they were paid to…”

Jacob sucked in his lower lip as if guilty by something you said. “Well, I did have something to gain from it, (Y/N),” he admitted, bringing the fork back towards the plate. “I really wanted you to love me.”

“And that’s a selfish thing?” you asked, a small laugh upon your words.

“I guess I feel like I am being selfish,” he admitted, chewing at his lower lip in regret about something.

Again, a chuckle tickled your throat as you reached for his thigh and squeezed him there reassuringly. “If this is you being selfish, then I will gladly take it.”

Jacob smiled, lowering his head in acknowledgement to your response before finding the courage to look you in the eyes once more. “Then let’s get you back to feeling better, shall we?”

 

\--

 

As the days passed, keeping food and water down became easier and the trips to the bathroom were less frequent and a lot less messy. The doctor did stop by every now and again to try and be sure everything was in order and that you were recovering as intended. With you able to keep liquids down and finally able to eat, the saline drip was removed and the horrible disease was considered on its way out of your body.

Being able to finally walk around your home was a relief. Sure, you did it now and again with Jacob’s help, but being able to do so without his aid brought much joy to you as you were cautious in where you stepped just outside your house door. As awful as the air could be in London, you wanted to taste of it once more and thank the heavens that you still drew breath.

“(Y/N)?” Jacob’s voice beckoned from inside of the house, the Assassin soon appearing behind you in only his pants as he was resting beside you earlier. Apparently your absence startled him awake.

“I am just here, Jacob,” you said in a soft voice, removing your arms from the doorframe only to have Jacob take your nearest hand and guide you back inside. You could see the worry in his eyes, and he hardly needed to say a thing as your hand found his cheek tenderly. “I promise you, I am fine.”

“Perhaps, but I would rather you stay indoors for just a bit more to be sure,” said Jacob, closing the door behind you. “Besides, if you’re going to go outside, why don’t you at least get appropriate clothes on?”

You were only in your nightgown and a pair of slippers, so you could understand his concern there. Moving your hand to his chest, you turned to kiss Jacob’s cheek—something you never did since your first encounter with him. Apparently, it was enough to catch him off guard for a moment. You couldn’t help but smile with a brief, throaty laugh. “Thank you, Jacob. I promise I will be okay,” you repeated.

With you willingly sparing him a kiss on the cheek, he smirked with a lidded look to his eyes. “You never did allow me to kiss you before, (Y/N).”

Humming, you shrugged your shoulders as you found your way to the sofa in your room this time and not your bed. “I was sick for many days, Jacob. I didn’t think you’d want to be sick with me.”

“Ah, but you never did say ‘no’,” Jacob reminded you of the first time he even attempted.

You scoffed, looking up at him with a raise of your brow and a smirk hanging upon your lips in return to his cocky behavior. “You would honestly risk getting sick just to kiss me now?”

“I risked a lot already with that bit, love,” he reminded you, his finger caressing your cheek in a kindhearted manner. “I don’t think a kiss is going to deter me.”

By all accounts, you were considered healed of cholera, so you didn’t have anything to lose in it. Your lips nearly touching Jacob’s, you allowed him to taste of your words. “Fine…kiss me then.”

The words seemed to come across as a dare—a dare that Jacob gladly accepted without much thought. His lips upon yours, you felt your heart race at the taste and the sensation it ignited within you. Moaning in satisfaction upon the brief connection, you looked to him curiously when his mouth slowly parted from yours. “How was that?” he asked curiously, his hand moving to your cheek to caress you there.

You shrugged your brow, a small smile appearing before the Assassin. “I don’t want to inflate your ego,” you said teasingly, moving your own finger to the corner of his lips. “Let nobody doubt what a romantic you are.”

Jacob gave you a toothy grin before tilting his head once more and instigating another kiss—acting as though he had been staving for it for awhile now as his tongue teased your lips to beg for more. You complied and opened your mouth to tease his wet muscle with your own. Cheeks flushed for a different reason and your body warmed at the sensation. However, Jacob knew you were still recovering, and after enjoying in the intimate moment, he departed from your lips with a satisfied smile. His hands upon your cheeks, he cradled your face within his touch before moving to kiss your forehead. “I love you, (Y/N).”

Grabbing onto his wrists, you pulled his hands to your lips to kiss him there in reassurance that he had your heart as he had desired all this time. “I love you too, Jacob.”

It was obvious he found the words comforting as he relaxed under their presence. “Now that I have your love, maybe I will find the bottle for the next step,” he commented ambiguously, ushering you into his arms to embrace you tightly.


End file.
